Review: JOHN PROCTOR IS THE VILLAIN, Royal Court Theatre

When John Proctor is the Villain opened on Broadway last year, it lit a fire. Kimberly Belflower’s response to Arthur Miller’s The Crucible is more than play, it’s a movement. After shaking things up overseas, the piece is taking on London now (in the same venue that saw the U.K. premiere of Miller’s chef d’oeuvre seven decades ago almost to the day!) with a brand new cast directed by Danya Taymor.

In a rural town in Georgia, a class of 16-year-old students has been assigned The Crucible as their next read. Fuelled by feminist rage and a devotion to pop music, five teenagers learn to question their inherited narratives and fight back in a society that arbitrarily puts women down. It’s socially engaged contemporary theatre at its best.

Belflower’s work is perfectly plugged into the rippling effects that cause societal disruption. The script is as emotionally intelligent as it is fun and casual, but it also reveals a proclivity for fostering debate. She questions the nature of authority, debating the need for it and addressing the abuse of power. Her characters are smart, provocative, proactive, and unapologetically proud of who they are. Most of anything, they feel real. 

They seamlessly go from the astounding depth of thought that only teenage girls possess to the unabashed silliness of growing up. The profundity of their conversations transforms into hysterical laughter before dipping into heartfelt emotion and going back to deep realisation. We’ve all been them, known them, or wished we were them – what a beautiful thing. But the sheer joy of girlhood meets the ugly truth of toxic masculinity very quickly with clever writing.

Singing loudly to the bridge of Taylor Swift’s ‘Dear John’ suddenly turns into a battle with male narcissism and sexual assault (that’s the universal female experience distilled into one sentence for you). The insulation of the tiny Georgia town manifests itself in the signs of religious trauma and the exceedingly familiar feeling that comes with living in a place where everybody knows everybody. How do you reconcile the idea of your friend’s lovely dad with the damning accusations that are now thrown at him? It's difficult.

So, why does John Proctor – “one of the best characters ever” according to Mr Smith (Dónal Finn) – feature so heavily in this? While the class (and therefore we) discuss systemic misogyny and the ingrained tendency not to believe women, the themes of The Crucible echo and resound in the story. At the core is the beloved, magnetic English teacher on whom everyone has a crush, even the other staff members. It allows him alarming latitude.

Beth (Holly Howden Gilchrist) idolises him openly and her friends aren’t safe from his charm either – neither are we. Finn is exquisite. Engaging and passionate, he presents a man who believes in the power of art. He opens a window into the outside, introducing his pupils to a world where abstinence isn’t the only way to succeed in life. He is the sun around which they all orbit until Raelynn’s bestie Shelby (Sadie Soveral) shows up after a “sabbatical” in another state. Her fiery charisma and troubled personality irreversibly shake up the rest of the group.

Her arrival signifies the start of a massive shift in thinking that culminates in a validating, liberating explosion of emancipation. It’s an exhilarating ending. Soveral, Howden Gilchrist, Miya James (Raelynn), Lauryn Ajufo (Nell), and Clare Hughes (Ivy) give cohesively phenomenal performances with raw and honest candour. It’s truly exciting to witness a nest of stars in the making.

John Proctor has it all, including the visuals. A gorgeous classroom by AMP and Teresa L. Williams acts as the static set for the plot. It’s as realistic and eloquent as it can be, with motivational posters plastering the walls and a welcoming sofa that makes it a safe space. Natasha Katz’s lighting design adds to this verisimilitude by letting “natural” light stream in before crushing it with typically stark neons. The restriction of one setting condenses tension and corrals conflict, focusing the attention on what Belflower has to say – which is a lot.

This is a play that must be seen by all, irrespective of gender, age, and background. It’s the perfect gateway for a new audience, and proof that theatre doesn’t have to pander to the grey pound to mean something. Pop culture and youth matter as much as classic literature and drama do. The production is relatable, accessible, poignant, and bursting with ideas. Beg, borrow, steal, but get yourself into this utterly galvanising room!

John Proctor is the Villain runs at the Royal Court Theatre until 25 April.